


Light Of A New Moon

by garrisonbabe



Series: Dominion Hymns [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dean isn't actually 17, Demigods, M/M, Pagan God Dean, Pagan God Dean Winchester, Riding, Top Michael, he just looks like it physically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This boy, this… this young <i>god</i>. He’s divine perfection that clings to Michael’s skin and dreams on the rare occasions that he does sleep. All he can see are Dean’s pretty green eyes, his soft lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Of A New Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HigherMagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/gifts).



> another drunk fic. not beta-read, just lightly edited, pardon mistakes.

Michael can’t get it out of his head, how there’s something different about Dean. It’s not very common for people to be named after the gods, but it’s not really unheard of. But this teenage boy that shows up on his front porch at night, Michael can’t help wondering if he isn’t just named after the Moon God.

It’s heretical, it’s insane, and it’s literally the only theory he has that makes sense. Michael can see the constellations in the freckles on Dean’s back when they fuck. Normally he’d be worried about fucking someone who looks barely past the age of seventeen, but Dean never gives him time to worry. Dean is so bright, shining down like the stars and the moon.

He laughs with more life than Michael’s ever heard from another human. This boy, this… this young  _god_. He’s divine perfection that clings to Michael’s skin and dreams on the rare occasions that he does sleep. All he can see are Dean’s pretty green eyes, his soft lips.

The god theory doesn’t really take hold in his mind until his luck changes. More money, more chances for promotion, more friends when he needs them. Everyone says he’s blessed by the gods. Michael knows it’s just one.

Dean usually doesn’t come on the new moon, but Michael doesn’t dare bring that up when he sees the familiar smile waiting for him as he pulls into his driveway. He kisses Dean slowly, his entire body releasing the tension from the day. All of his stress just melts like ice in a thaw. Dean is also the god of water, after all.

There’s an excited tremble shaking Dean’s entire body. He pulls Michael inside the house. “I want to show you something.”

Michael can’t help his curiosity. “Wasn’t my door locked?”

Dean just shrugs. “You’ve invited me in.”

Of course. He has an altar to Dean in his attic with fresh spring water and a hand-made stone carving of the moon in snowflake obsidian. Dean’s never needed his permission to come in, but he’s always asked Michael anyway. He isn’t an overly demanding god.

They head straight up the stairs beside Michael’s bedroom door. Dean looks over his shoulder, his hand still grasping Michael’s firmly.

Michael nods, nervous but smiling anyway.

The room is too dark for Michael to see, so he lets Dean lead him. They walk over toward the window, a few faint lights from his neighbors’ houses visible. Street lights are illegal in their city, they obstruct the darkness of the night.

Dean pushes him to kneel by the altar table. A soft silver light pours out from Dean’s eyes, calming the nervous tension that’s been building in Michael.

Dean walks over to the window, then turns to face Michael where he kneels. “A lot of people think I don’t show my face on the new moon because the moon isn’t there. Sounds kinda stupid to me, but I never tell them that. Just because there’s no light doesn’t mean I’m not there.”

Dean paces in front of the window, his eyes glowing brighter the longer he stands exposed to the new moon.

"I’m the moon and the stars, but I’m also the shadows. You know what the new moon is, Michael?"

"Pure shadow." Michael watches as Dean’s skin turns to an ashy gray.

He removes his clothing, his freckles turning silver. They start to glow like his eyes. “Exactly. I don’t let people see me during the new moon because if they saw what was underneath the skin they made, they’d be terrified of me. I don’t want that.”

The gray of Dean’s skin grows darker until it’s nearly as black as the night sky. His eyes are as bright as suns, pouring pure white light into the room and onto Michael’s skin. Every silver freckle turns white with them, glowing just like the stars above.

Michael’s breath is caught in his chest. To think, he’s had this in his bed. He has fucked that body, filled with sacred starlight.

Dean smiles, more light pouring out of his mouth. Michael’s body reacts to the sight, and he opens his mouth to apologize. This isn’t the place to be thinking about sex.

A wave of Dean’s hand cuts him off before he can even speak. “I’d be worried if I didn’t turn you on like this.”

Michael is surprised that Dean’s voice isn’t different. The night sky is standing in his attic in the shape of a young man, but he doesn’t speak like dying stars. He speaks like the person Michael has come to love most in this world.

"Come here." Dean leans against the window casually, like he isn’t ripping Michael’s soul out with every breath.

Michael stands on shaking legs and walks over to his god, unable to keep from touching him. Dean’s hair, normally a soft brown, has turned a pure black and is softer than shadow to touch.

The buttons of Michael’s shirt pop open on their own, hands reaching out from the shadows to undress him as Dean grows right in front of him. No longer the height of a sixteen year old, Dean is just as tall as he is. The slender, athletic frame Michael has spent months memorizing is filled in with muscle and a well-fed softness. Michael smiles, he always offers Dean honey and fruit. It shows.

His pants and boxers are pulled down, leaving him exposed for his god’s sight and use. Dean gently pushes him back down to the floor, following until he’s straddling Michael’s thighs.

Michael’s hands are greedy, pulling at Dean’s skin, desperate to feel all they can. Dean smiles and Michael wants to swallow the starlight whole.

A kiss is pressed to his brow, the warmth of it too much for him. He grinds his teeth to keep from whining. Dean shushes him, kissing along his hairline. Michael craves every touch.

Dean grabs his cock and his entire body jolts, unprepared for the tight grip of the god seated in his lap. The next thing he feels is the head of his cock sinking into Dean’s body. Normally they spend time with foreplay, getting Dean loose enough. But it seems that Dean doesn’t want to wait this time around. He’s warm and wet, gripping Michael just as perfectly as always.

Michael kisses him, he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep his mouth in check otherwise. Not that Dean can’t read his thoughts, but still.

Dean rides him slowly, like the night will last for days and he can spend the entire time blessing Michael with the chance to be inside it. For all that Michael knows that Dean is a god, he still moves like a human. When Michael pulls on him, begs him to be closer with clawing fingers, Dean goes. Their chests are pressed together, Dean’s cock rubbing against Michael’s stomach with every thrust.

 _Men have killed for this_ , he thinks,  _priests have meditated themselves to starvation._

Dean moans into his mouth, breaking the kiss so Michael can breathe. “They weren’t worthy like you.”

Michael shakes, heels slipping against the floor as he tries to get some traction, some control. Dean kisses him again, cupping his face like he's the one that's divine and precious here. Like his skin is holy.

His entire body feels like it’s being pulled toward Dean. It must be how the tide feels about the moon. Two parts of the same god trying to touch. But they won’t, not ever. Michael is touching, is  _fucking_  this god. Church never taught him to worship like this. To be happy that he could even breathe through a religious experience.

Michael breaks their kiss, panting heavily as he buries his face into Dean’s neck. He sees his hands where they claw at Dean’s back. The veins under his skin are glowing like Dean’s eyes and freckles.

He moans. “Oh my God.”

Dean nods and fucks him harder. He won’t last like this, he’ll die trying to last longer than Dean, but that’s fine. It doesn’t seem like Dean is really concerned about him coming first. If anything, Dean delights in feeling his cock getting harder. Michael gives stilted pushes up into Dean’s body, his balls heavy and spine glowing with pressure. Maybe it’s actually glowing.

A rough, possessive hand grabs his hair, yanking him back to look his god in the face. Both of Dean’s actual hands are still on his shoulders. “Give me your sacrifice, Michael.”

And just like that, Michael stops breathing, his entire body locks up, then releases. He moans and buries his face back in Dean’s neck, his arms tightening around Dean to the point that any human wouldn’t be able to breathe.

Dean rubs his neck and shoulders, then pets through his hair gently.

Michael can’t keep himself from speaking. “Don’t leave.”

Dean shushes him again and relaxes into his hold. He kisses Michael’s jaw and whispers in his ear. “I’d never abandon a demigod.”

Michael opens eyes, seeing a new star as it’s born on Dean’s shoulder. He stares at it and smiles.  _That’s me._


End file.
